A Thousand Years
by Sakura Lisette
Summary: Nations live forever. As time passes, things change. As things change, the more one starts to yearn for something. Something that will never change. This is a collection of memoirs, from the perspective of humans, who could dare love an immortal nation.
1. Chapter 1

**Yes. Another story. I was listening to Christina Perri's song, 'A Thousand Years', and this idea came to my mind. **

**The first one will be about America, and others are soon to follow.**

**Disclaimer: Axis Powers Hetalia does not belong to me.**

* * *

><p>I didn't think that I was a special girl or anything. I thought that no one could notice me, with a plain, dull face and whatsoever no talent to show standing in the corner of the room.<br>Yes, our house was pretty much a room. Both my older brother and my father left to join the Union army. They're both brave men. Even someone so plain like me could feel that much about a person. I was never even good at household chores, like washing clothes or cooking, but Father still loved me. Mother died when I was born, and I always felt guilty that I could never contribute enough to our already struggling family.

My brother, John, was the only one who really saw me as something else, save for my father. He used to go on and on about how bright my blue eyes were, and how golden my hair was. He had that sort of personality that could pick out anything good in a person and make them feel great about it. I don't even know how we're related, seeing how different we are. Sure, our hair and eyes were the same, but John stood out. In a really good way. Everybody in town knew who he was, and liked him a lot.  
>I guess when I broke the news that it really took the smile out of everyone's faces.<p>

The ladies in town talk about how I should get married so that I actually had a future and a family to pass our farm to. Farms were becoming useless because of all this machinery that's being developed, but since my Father refused to make me work in a factory or sell the farm, I guess I'll hold on to his wish. I mean, I am all that's left of our family. I should make the best of what's left and pick up the pieces.

The pieces weren't hard to pick up. It was the whole finished picture that worried me.

Did I really want to stay in a rundown farm, and never get anything accomplished?  
>The army needed nurses. Nurses who would heal the injured soldiers, who fought in the battlefield. I thought that by doing something like that, I could be needed in a way. I never tried first aid, but if I attempted it, who knows?<p>

* * *

><p>The army was so desperate that they would take any young woman. I was one of them who made it.<p>

In the camp, I saw lots of the others girls flirting with the other soldiers, and some were already kissing. It's probably none of my business, but it was kind of disturbing. That soldier had a ring on his finger! Well...if the girl was his wife or fiancée, that would be alright, I guess. Since I didn't hear much of the earlier conversation, I probably didn't know what was going on, so I turned around and left.

The soldiers I tried to talk to were sweet talking me like I was a girl begging for candy. I was never one for men like that, so walking away was the best choice. Soldier by soldier, they all had different personalities, different lives, different voices, different dreams.

It killed me to think that John was one of them.

One soldier was named Anthony Drake, an eighteen year old from Wisconsin. He was the quiet type, but had a nice, small smile and was really polite. Another stood by him, contrasting his looks to the max.

He had electric blue eyes that seemed to shine, and a bright, white smile on his face.

His name was Alfred F. Jones.

"It's a pleasure to meet ya', miss!" He held out his hand. As I took it, I felt how sturdy it was. I also felt how strong it was.

Alfred didn't have an extremely muscular frame, nor was he thin as a stick. Indeed, he looked healthier than most of the men, and dare I say it, he was a bit handsome. A stray strand of hair, golden as the sun, stuck out from the side of his head.

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Jones." I bobbed into a clumsy curtsy.

Anthony gently said that he had matters to attend to, and Alfred quickly recognized it as he ran off.  
>"...I hear some of the other guys were bugging you." His voice, still energetic, dropped to a milder, softer tone. His eyes were locked onto mine, and his arms were swaying at his sides.<p>

"It's alright. I've dealt with people like them before." The boys from the town would always bully me and steal wheat, whenever John wasn't around. After I cried out my heart, John would march into town and come back a few minutes later with the wheat. He patted my head and said it was alright, and that nothing would ever hurt me without it going through him first.

"You know, someone used to tell me that you can't solve problems that involve the world without solving things back home first. If anyone tries to hurt you, I'll be the hero and make sure they don't ever get to you, alright?" He grinned, placing his hands on his hips.  
>The smile I saw before...I couldn't tell if it had been earnest or not, but I knew for sure this one was.<p>

"Sure." I attempted a smile, and shrugged my shoulders.

We were called back into our tents after that.

For some strange reason, in the small cot I slept in, I couldn't sleep just yet. Was it this new life I was about to experience? Or our old farm that I sold off?  
>Or was it how Alfred sounded like John when he said that they would never get to me?<br>My arms wrapped around my small frame. The night was cold, even though it was summer. When Father and John died, I remember being colder than I ever was before.

The strange thing was, remembering Alfred's words again and again, I felt warmer.

* * *

><p>The first battle was a disaster.<p>

I tried to hold my nose as dead bodies were scattered across the grassy field. The air, which had smelled fresh and clean before, now smelled of blood and rotting flesh.

Suddenly there was a girl's cry. There was a group of other girls huddled around in a partial circle, around the girl I had seen kissing a soldier with a wedding band a while ago.  
>As I got closer, I only caught a glimpse of her arched back shaking against a body of a soldier. The body was unmoving, caked with blood in multiple areas.<p>

It was only then when I noticed an identical wedding band on her finger.

From the time I arrived and the time this battle began, Al and I talked a lot together. Occasionally Anthony would join in, but he was always running off on duty. I got to know Al more. Right, he told me to call him 'Al' because for some reason he didn't like it when he was called 'Alfred'. I didn't bother to ask him anymore on the subject, because already a look of disappointment was showing on his face.

Al didn't come from any extremely well known or wealthy family. He told me that he was born in Massachusetts, and his parents passed away before he knew them. He had an older brother, whose name he didn't mention, who took care of him. As he got older he and his older brother got into more fights, which led him to leave home and become a soldier.

"'Don't care where he is right now. Probably begging me to come crawling back to him or something." Frowning, he swept away the crumbs of the stale bread he had to eat.

"That doesn't change the fact that he still took care of you when you were little." He made an annoyed noise with his tongue.

"It also doesn't change the fact that he never saw me as being able to take care of myself." Al fell silent, bright blue eyes now dull as my own. His lips were pressed into a thin line as he looked at the stream that ran underneath our feet.

I never saw him that unhappy before. And I hated it. Al was a great person, who was meant to smile.

"Hey. You shouldn't do that." He jerked his face back up to me.

"Do what?"  
>"Frown. It doesn't suit you." I spoke carefully. Saying things from the bottom of my heart to people I wasn't attached to wasn't like me. I think this was the very first time I did that.<p>

Al blinked. Once. Twice. Eyes glued to mine. Then, his eyes became bright again as he threw his head back and laughed.

"Of course not! I'm supposed to be a hero, right?" His smile returned as he stood from the stump.

"I'm going back now. You should go too." I followed him, watching his back. As we walked, his pace became noticeably slower.

"Hey."  
>"Yeah?"<br>"...Thanks." It was a very quiet mumble, almost a whisper that I couldn't hear. His voice had never been that low. It held a certain strain to it, as if there was something he had been holding back.

"You're welcome." I came to his side, and by the time I was there he was smiling again.

Now, as I bandaged the arm of a groaning Lieutenant, I saw a familiar sight crouched down a few meters away from me.

As soon as I saw the bandage tight enough, I ran to his side.

"Al, are you hurt?" He didn't move. Stooping down, I saw who the body was that he was looking at.

It was Anthony.

I froze. Anthony, dead? The kind, quiet boy who I met just a few weeks ago...dead? I brought my dirty palms up to my mouth, holding back a choked sob. My eyes began to water, as I felt a wet trail tracing a line down my cheek.

"Don't cry." Al's voice was weak.

"I'm sorry." Brushing away my tears, I exhaled. One death, and many more to come. Anthony was one of the many who died, one of the many who held dreams and wishes in their heart. Anthony was my friend, and more so Al's.

My vision became unclear, my mind becoming hazy with thoughts. It wasn't until I felt something warm against my hand.

It was Al's hand. Slowly, I tilted my head upward as to see his face.

Smiling, again.

"Heroes...can't make girls cry."

* * *

><p>Anthony's death still didn't make Al suffer. Some of the men in the army left, and some who stayed were extremely discouraged. Yet, Al wasn't one of those men. He stood tall, loudly describing how the road ahead of us was long, and that fellow soldiers who died would have died for nothing if we didn't move on.<p>

He was more inspiring that I thought. This was a side I hadn't seen of him. Smiling, joking Al was now strong, leader Alfred, making a way for his fellow soldiers to keep going.

Everyone was brought up by his words. They called him a hero, for standing up like that.  
>In my chest, I felt a warm feeling. A feeling of happiness, of joy. I hadn't done anything, but Al did. Al did something great.<p>

That night, as I tossed and turned in my sleep, I learned something.

I would follow Al until the end.

It wasn't about me just going forward anymore. Actually, I couldn't care less if I remained the person I was, a nurse in the Union army.

It was about Al, now. About Al going forward. About Al being praised, about Al being strong.

About Al to keep him smiling.

Battles continued to pass, and Al just kept getting stronger. Many were losses, few were victories. But he still held his head high and marched forward, going up the ranks and leading the front line into battle.

I didn't know it, but even I had proved to be good enough to go up the levels as a nurse. Now, I was the one commanding new girls where to go, what to do. Even with all the new recruits, I could point out the original strong men who stayed throughout the war. There weren't much, but we were proud of them.

And of course, I always looked for the man with the golden hair, bright blue eyes and white smile.

As we went up the ranks, it didn't change how we spoke to each other. I was glad for that, and so was he.

We still walked together, when there wasn't anything that needed to be done. Since we were busier, it was harder to find time. At night, when no one was looking, we went about the outskirts of camp, despite what Al's commanding officers would say against.

"You've heard about what they say about us, right?" I asked him. He snickered.

"Yeah, about how we've been together and how we might be causing a scandal." I laughed quietly, wary of the sleeping soldiers around us.

"Yeah, they're..." I drifted off.  
>What <em>did<em> I think about Al?

"Al, you never change. It's been months...maybe a year...and you're still smiling. Nothing can bring you down." I swiftly changed the subject.

Al sucked on his lip, turning away for a moment.

"Mary...well, it's weird, and I usually don't tell people this, but..." We heard a rustle in the bushes. The two of us froze, Al's hand moving to the pocket that held his gun.

A squirrel leaped out, scurrying up a nearby tree.

"Mary, can I talk to you about something tomorrow? In my tent."  
>"Is it really that important?" I raised my eyebrows playfully. Al wasn't really the cautious type.<p>

Even with that smile on his face, his eyes were a graver shade of blue.

"It is."

* * *

><p>Al's tent was more spacious than the one I shared with the other girls. Well, most of them had become ladies by now.<p>

I think I've become a lady myself, as childish as it sounds.

A lantern dimly lit the canvas wall as Al shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I caught sight of light bangs, barely visible, under his eyes. I felt bad for having him stay up this late, and with all that work to do...

"Mary. I'm...I'm not a human."  
>What? His smile was gone, replaced by a slightly parted mouth, hesitant to let words free.<p>

"I' m a country. Yeah, you heard that right. Sorry I lied all this time, it's just not common to share stuff like this to just _anyone." _My jaw hung loose as I stared at the ground.

He laughed without humor, and exhaled loudly.

"I'm the United States of America." I nearly choked.

"Then...everything...everything you've fought for...everything you've fought against..." He nodded.

"Yeah. It's my own people." He laughed bitterly.

* * *

><p>He explained to me everything that night. About how his older brother (Arthur Kirkland, AKA England) and himself fought against each other in the American Revolution, about how he had tried to stop something like this from happening, and about personified nations.<p>

The first thing that crossed my mind was this:

It was breaking him.

America was being broken down by his own people.

A few nights ago, I heard him coughing unnaturally, and I asked if he was alright. He shrugged it off, saying that everyone coughs and about how cold it was.

The nights after that I heard him coughing in his tent.

America was a people, who were once fighting for the same thing, now dying for a different cause. America was a nation.

America was Al.

The man I loved was Al.

"I'm sorry I brought you through all this." He sighed wearily, staring into the lantern.

"Your brother didn't want you to go through this, even though he had a feeling you would. That John, always talking about how different you were from everyone else. I remember when he bumped his head on the stump." He laughed silently.

"Yeah. He was a good guy. He really cared about you. 'Last wish was for you to be happy and safe, and being proud of who you were." I clutched the locket that hung from my neck since I first came.

"'Said that if I ever met you, that I'd have to keep you from crying. Heroes don't break promises." His old smile returned.

I stood from my seat.

"I don't care what he says." He looked at me, shocked.

"What?"  
>"I don't care what John says, about me being happy and safe. If you're still standing, I'll live." Those were words I never thought I could say.<p>

"Still, I can't break my promise." I swallowed.

"Some promises were meant to be broken."  
>"That's not how it works, Mary."<br>It was then I realized our faces were only inches apart. And we were still coming _closer._

My voice came out as hardly a whisper.  
>"Al...I love you." Our noses touched.<p>

"Stop that." His fingers reached to wipe the tears from my eyes.

"I already promised that I'd make you happy."  
>Then we kissed.<p>

I had faith in him whenever the battle would begin. Since the day I met him, I knew he wasn't the type who died so easily.

I was never afraid.

I wasn't afraid to be with him for the rest of my life.

Seeing him just standing there, there wasn't anything I was afraid of. It was like...all barriers of fear ha broken away. As we deepened the kiss, I brought my shaky hands to his head, brushing my fingers through the golden hair I loved so much. Who knew if his eyes were open? Mine were closed.

If I was going to die, I was going to live the time I have left to the fullest.

What he had said earlier changed some things. Some things about how I thought his past went by, some things about how he might perish if the Confederacy took over.

One thing didn't change.

I still lived to make him happy.

I still lived to make him smile.

* * *

><p>I remember the day the Civil War ended. Al told me he watched them signing the treaty at Appotamox in Virginia.<p>

Al was going to live. And live well, I knew.

His smile couldn't get any bigger that day, celebrating with the others. And he looked all handsome in his formal uniform, too, during the military ball.

With the money I had gained (quite more than I realized) I dressed myself up and bought a new gown. Red, white, and blue. For a unified America, for Al's favorite colors.

There were a lot more prettier girls than me. He could've picked any of them, battering their fans and blinking rapidly. Even with a new pretty dress, I didn't stand out much.

When it was time for the dance to begin, I hurried away from the middle of the room.

"Mary! MARY!" His hand touched my shoulder.

He was pouting, like a little boy who got upset if he didn't get what he wanted right away. One arm was reached forward, as if to ask me of something,

"Yes?" He couldn't really be-!  
>"Look, I don't want to do this either. Heroes are supposed to make the girl happy, right? Well, what do I do? Heroes are supposed to listen to what his superiors tell him to do, but-" I sighed and put a finger to his lips.<p>

"I don't mind." Grinning, he took my hand in his, and we made our way to the middle.

After the first kiss, I begged Al to teach me. To teach me how to dance. Being a little girl, all I did was help out on the farm and do household work, and not enough time nor money to be taught such things. I really wanted to, though.

We started with a few steps, hands interlocked. Feeling his hand against mine, I felt nothing could make me stumble.

After a few hours, it was early morning and I didn't want this to end. Al promised me we would do more later if I really wanted to that bad.

So we did, bringing us to this.

Everything that had happened...Father and John passing away in battle...entering the war to become a nurse...falling in love with Al...

It all led to this.

So many things in my life had changed. The farm wasn't there anymore, replaced by a factory. Father and John were up in that gorgeous place in the sky. My days as a nurse seemingly ended with the end of the war.

"Uh, Mary? Your hands...don't get me wrong, I love everything about you...but..." I gasped, realizing how tightly I held his.

"I'm sorry. It's just..." My feet, which were moving to the rhythm of the song, felt heavier and heavier in these heeled shoes.

"Al, where are you going to go?"  
>"There's still a lot of things to patch up, like the governments. I still have a way to go to become a country like them back in Europe." Right. People in the south were struggling to rebuild farms, homes, and towns destroyed by battles.<br>"Are you going to change?" I asked suddenly. Al didn't answer for a while, bowing as the dance ended and leading me towards the moonlit balcony outside, where no one stood because we left before the second dance began.  
>Maybe that's what I wanted all this time. Everything was slipping away, changing and turning into something new.<br>Maybe I wanted something to stay the same forever, as impossible as it sounds.

Just looking at this whole wide world, I learned that nothing stays the same. Nations warred, groups of people intermixed with another. Kingdoms fell, empires rose.

That's reality, isn't it?  
>He embraced me, burying his face in my hair.<p>

"You said you weren't much of a girl to look at, right? Not to me. Unlike all the others who've learned of who I am, you accepted it. What's more, you said you would never leave me." Pulling away, his face saddened.

I wasn't immortal like he was. I was going to die, one way or another.

"So? Even if I die, I'll be happy for it." I smiled, holding his face in my hands.

"I'll be happy because I made you happy." Smiling softly, he took me into another kiss.

"Same here."  
>At that moment, I found it.<p>

Something that I couldn't lose, something that wouldn't change.

And for once in a very long time, I felt the warmth come back in my spirit.

* * *

><p>2012<p>

"This Ridge-San...were the two of you acquainted during the war?" Kiku examined the cursive writing, scrawled on a yellow piece of paper, which was nicely preserved being in the hands of someone like America.

"AGH! Where 'd you find that?" Al panicked, grabbing the paper away from a surprised Japan.

"Forgive me. I didn't know the letter was private." He bowed.

"Eh, no, you don't have to." He said. Even he was aware of how far Japan could go into asking for forgiveness.

"This isn't the only letter. I have plenty back home, sitting in my library or something." Japan nodded, understanding.

"Yet you carry that one around in your pocket." Al, who was turning around to leave the meeting room, froze in place.

"Yeah." Afraid that he would ask any more, he ran from the room.

Japan was left, sitting on the table, watching the exit.

_There are some things that we never wanted to change, but we can't do anything about it._

Such was a nation's life.

* * *

><p>America closed his eyes, recalling everything that happened to Mary.<p>

The two of them knew that they couldn't get married. That was just strange, considering their positions. Besides, they didn't need a ring or a vow to know their undying love for each other.

She passed away at the age of fifty due to an illness. Al found her dead in her bed the next morning.

Dead, but with a smile across her lips.

He didn't cry at the funeral. He knew it wouldn't make anything better. After all, she was the one who told him that he was meant to smile.

So he did.

And guess what?  
>He never stopped.<p>

Folding the letter back into his pocket, he drove off.

_Keep on smiling, and up there, she'll smile too. _

He laughed, hand on the steering wheel.

In no way had Mary been a plain girl.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading! Please review!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm so sorry for the extremely long wait. I haven't forgotten about this story at all, it's just that I couldn't find any inspiration for a while on who to do next. I kept writing on and off, and finally finished this second story.  
>I found that Iggy might be out of character, and I apologize if he is...<strong>

**Disclaimer: Axis Powers: Hetalia does not belong to me.**

* * *

><p><em>1878<em>

"Sara Lindenshire." Slowly, I raised my head to meet the head of staff, a gentle-faced man by the name of Matthew Williams. He had cheek length golden hair and blue eyes, which looked at me hopefully behind round glasses. A long strand of hair which curled at the end hung from the top of his head, and in his arms was an awfully cute polar bear.

"It's nice to have someone like you helping around with the chores, eh?" He smiled.  
>I didn't have any choice but to find a means of getting money, for my once noble family had gone broke and split up. I was the only one left in London, and I had no money and no place to stay.<br>I wandered around for a while, and found myself at the gates of a very large estate.

I never heard of Duke Kirkland, but apparently he was very famous. Matthew told me of what he done, and who he had spoken to. He even went to the palace and met Queen Victoria daily!  
>That was where he was at the moment. Duke Kirkland involved himself in political affairs, Matthew said. All his life, as well.<br>"Miss Lindenshire, this will be your room." He opened the door to a medium-sized bedroom, with a bed with iron frames and a window that overlooked the rose garden. On the wall facing the bed was a tall wooden wardrobe.

"I-I hope it's to your liking-"  
>"It's lovely. Thank you." I turned and smiled at the worried-looking young man. The bear in his arms stared at me with its button-like eyes, that would blink now and then.<br>"That's good, eh? You can rest for today. I'll help you around with work tomorrow, but for now you can rest." His blue eyes examined me from head to toe.  
>"You look like you've been through a lot, eh?" He asked, his voice so soft it was hardly audible.<br>I pressed my lips together and looked down at the tattered remains of my favorite dress. Once upon a time it had been a pale yellow, but now it was torn and faded that it was nearly white. My shoes I didn't wear that often, and most of the time I went barefoot as not to ruin them. They were the only pair I could save, and I wanted to look at least presentable enough when I worked.

"It's nothing." I waved off the topic and nodded, undoing my tied chocolate brown hair. When was the last time I washed it?  
>"I-I guess I'll leave you to yourself, then." He bowed his head quickly, and closed the door.<p>

I didn't know why, but I truly wanted to see Duke Kirkland.  
>There was something about him, about the way Matthew spoke about him, that struck me odd. It was as if he wasn't someone you would meet every day. Someone who met the Queen regularly wasn't ordinary. Of course, I abandoned all my prejudice on people of noble blood being very vain and self-centered. Sure, it was true to some degree, but my mother nor my father wasn't like that.<br>So I'm sure this world isn't as terrible as many say it is.

As I lay in the bed, wearing a night shift I found hanging in the wooden wardrobe, there was something in me that was itching to open the door and look around. How rude would that be! This was not my property, and I could be trespassing in certain places that I wasn't supposed to be in.  
>The urge grew stronger, and I quickly rose and tip-toed my way to the door. My hand clasped around the golden knob as I swiftly opened it, as not to make any creaking noises that could wake Matthew or even worse, the Duke himself.<p>

Were there any other servants? Matthew was an exceptionally nice person, and I hoped if there were they would be as nice as he was.

"So you couldn't sleep, eh?" A voice as quiet as a ghost spoke from behind me. I jumped, clasping a hand around my mouth to silence the shriek that was released.  
>"I'm sorry, I 'm sorry!" Turning, I sighed in relief. It was Matthew, dressed in a plain white cotton button-up shirt and matching trousers. The little bear which he usually carried was on the floor, once again staring at me with a sky blue nightcap on its head. How cute!<br>"No, I'm the one who should say sorry." I lowered my head in shame. How foolish of me!  
>"It's alright, I understand. This estate has a very interesting feeling to it." Matthew's voice seemed to become quieter as he spoke, blue eyes becoming more distant as he looked around.<p>

"Matthew?" He snapped back into attention, smiling worriedly at me.

"Aha ha ha! You must be hungry! Have you ever tasted maple pancakes before?" I had never heard of them, but they sounded delicious.

"No." His eyes widened in shock.

"No? Well then I'll make you some, eh!" He pulled my hand gently and quickly led me down the flight of stairs on the left.

The hallways were decorated with old portraits of well-dressed people, some famous historical figures and some whose faces I didn't recognize. While we were moving at a fast pace, I saw one in particular that caught my attention.

It was a painting, most likely oil, of two small children. They sat on either leg of a young man who emerald green eyes and very thick eyebrows, who sat on a red chair. He was donned in an old military uniform of red and black, with a proud expression on his face. The child sitting on the left leg had golden hair like the sun, with a matching smile and large eyes the color of spring water. The child sitting on the right leg wore a shy, tiny smile with identical blue eyes of the other child's and the same hair, but longer. His hair had a long, loose strand that curled hanging, similar to Matthew's while the other had an strand that stuck up from the side of his head.

Nevertheless, both boys looked very happy.

I would have to ask Matthew about this later.

The kitchen was a tidy area with a table in the center and spoons, pans, and other large utensils hanging from hooks to the side. The table in the center was made of wood, along with four matching chairs.

"This is where the servants eat." Matthew gently pulled on one of the chairs, and gestured to sit. Once seated, I cleared my throat.

"You told me from when we just met that you were employed here because of your family."  
>"Yes." Matthew didn't look at me. He raised the frying pan and snapped his wrist, the flat sheet of dough flipping in midair.<br>"That painting in the hallway...the one with a man and two children at his side...it looks very interesting. I mean, all the other portraits looked very well done, but-" I stopped. He stopped moving.

"Matthew?"  
>"Yes, there is something different about that portrait. He used to have two children. Not that they were his own by blood, but he loved them like they were. In the end, one of them went away because he believed that he wouldn't let him be off on his own. The younger son stayed, but he's off somewhere else by now. It's actually one of my favorites too, eh?" His voice changed from grave to joyful as he said the last sentence.<br>"Oh. That other son...does he still speak to the Duke?" Matthew placed the pancakes on the plates, putting them on the table. His little bear crawled from his arms, and sat on his behind on the floor, staring at me as usual.

"He does, but not as he used to." His voice was as tiny as a mouse's as he looked out the window, as if he was remembering something.

* * *

><p>The next morning I met Duke Kirkland.<br>He looked a little older than the man in the portrait, but with those unmistakable eyebrows, he was the same. He spoke like a gentleman, very formal and polite with his manner of speech. His etiquette was like that of one's as well.

I truly, earnestly, hated to admit it, but...

Duke Kirkland was a handsome man.

"It is an honor to be working for you, Sir." I bobbed a curtsy.

He nodded simply, looking into my eyes. His were an emerald green, like the portrait's, but in my mind I couldn't help but think that there was something about it that I couldn't stop pondering about. They were beautiful, as the actual jewels my mother used to own. But they seemed...old. Old, strained, and like they saw much of a troublesome past.

"Matthew will continue to aid you since you are new." After nodding to the head servant, he turned on his heel and walked off, leaving me to stand in the foyer with my frame trembling.

Trembling?  
>"Are you ok, Sara?" Matthew walked to my side worriedly.<p>

"Yes, I am." Taking a deep breath, I caught sight of my disposition and straightened my posture.

"Your cheeks are red. Please don't tell me you're sick?" He asked earnestly.

My hands made their way to my cheeks, which felt warm.  
>"No, I'm fine." He smiled.<p>

"Like, where is she?"  
>"Just keep looking, mate! We'll find her!"<br>"I do believe he said that she would be in the foyer." Three accented voices came from the hall. Matthew blinked and dashed, leaving his bear behind.

I was dumbstruck. Were they the other servants? What if they didn't like me? The first voice seemed annoyed.

"Hello." I shrieked, looking around the room. Odd, no one seemed to be there.

"Down here." The voice was that of a child's. Was it one of the servants, who might have walked in with me not noticing?  
>I was wrong. Very wrong.<p>

It was the bear.

It waved its small paw, sitting down like a toy bear.

"Hello."  
>I could've sworn I saw stars. No, this sort of thing happened in <em>Alice in Wonderland, <em>but not in reality!  
>"Can you hear me? He said my voice was even louder than his."<br>My vision flickered, until it turned totally black.

* * *

><p>I woke up facing the plain ceiling of my room. Matthew was nowhere to be seen, along with his bear.<br>Oh, his bear.

The speaking one.

I felt completely fine, so I rose quickly from the bed and was appalled to see that the sun was setting.

"Like, are you alright?" A strange-sounding voice asked from behind me. Turning, I saw a boy in his teens dressed in a chestnut-colored suit. His eyebrows were thick, though not as thick as Duke Kirkland's. His face wore a blank expression, and golden brown eyes were dull.

"I-I'm fine, thank you."  
>"Oh." He held out his hand, his upper lip pressing down awkwardly on his lower.<p>

"I'm Xiang." So he _was _Chinese! I knew he was Asian, at the very least. But I didn't want to offend him by making a wrong gesture at which nationality he was from.

Taking his hand, another man poked his head from the doorway. His brown hair was rather wavy, and his dark green eyes were bright.  
>"Oh! The pretty miss's awake, huh?" My cheeks grew hot at 'pretty'.<p>

Xiang rolled his eyes, turning back.

"You're embarrassing her, like, he'll yell at us if we try to _do anything._" I didn't know what that meant, but obviously the other man did. He laughed, and although he seemed a few years older than Xiang, he seemed younger.

"I didn't mean to do anything like that, mate! Just wanted to make her feel welcome." Xiang raised an eyebrow, before returning his bored gaze to the wooden floor and leaving the room abruptly.

* * *

><p>Later I learned that the other man's name was Kyle, and he came to Britain from Australia. Like Matthew, he had a pet following him like a shadow. It was a strange little creature, with an oddly shaped nose, gray fur, beady black eyes, and sharp nails. He explained that it was a koala, a slow-moving creature from his homeland.<p>

"Does it have a name?" I asked. It was very friendly, and took to me almost immediately, as it climbed on my shoulder.

Kyle's bright smile disappeared, and he looked down at his shoes.

"Uh..."  
>"I believe you can name it whatever you want, Miss Lindinshire." Oh yes, there was another man, one of the men I heard in the hallway. Arjun was from India, which he told me about a lot. It sounds like a very interesting place, and when it was his turn to cook, he usually made curry. Spicy, but after a while I got used to it and it proved to be very delicious.<p>

"Do you have a pet as well?" I asked him during dinner that night. Mr. Koala-as my naming sense is terrible-crawled in my lap contentedly.

"I do! Though the master refuses to let it in the house. Most of the time it stays outside in the gardens, and she's very well behaved, never touching those roses of his!" 'She' was his pet peacock, Beli. She was the most beautiful bird I ever laid my eyes on, with a fan of blue, green, and yellow feathers the shape of eyes attached to its back and spread like a fan. I saw her the first time out the window, where Arjun gestured to.

"What a lovely bird! And to think they are all over India!" Arjun smiled, eyes distant. Although he was looking at Bali, whose head bobbed to peck at the grass, his eyes seemed...faraway.

"She reminds me of home." A short silence followed, until a loud _bang _of glass hitting wood broke it.

"Pardon, but I think we should, like, get back to work." Xiang nodded, eyes sharp and turned away, leaving the room.

Arjun looked in his direction. Kyle, who slowly rose from the wooden chair, was stroking Mr. Koala's back, eyes at the floor.  
>"...I understand. You all miss your home, don't you?" I asked softly. Arjun looked in my direction, lips pressed.<p>

"Miss Sara, it's hard to go back to the way we once were." Kyle smiled, in a small way like Matthew did. Apparently, Matthew had business to take care of elsewhere, and couldn't have dinner with us.  
>Arjun kept silent, but smiled along with him before leaving the room quietly.<p>

It was difficult to sleep that night.

I can't really describe why. I believe it really had to do with my pity for the others. Arjun and his polite cheerfulness, Kyle and his energetic personality, Xiang with his blunt words and quick movements. They were all from different places, places where I guessed the British Empire had touched upon and conquered at least a part of.  
>And they all missed home.<br>They didn't consider this place home, but I, in the two short days I was employed here, was already thinking of it as a home. For now, at least.  
>When I thought of home, it was a vision of me, my mother, and my father having tea together in the afternoon, in our old home in Yorkshire. Father would speak about how silly some of the pompous nobility acted and mother and I would laugh.<p>

Suddenly I felt lonely.

And suddenly, I realized why they missed their homelands.

But I couldn't pity myself. I was a strong girl, and I could handle things like this easier.

I closed my eyes at that last thought.

* * *

><p>Months passed by. The leaves of summer fell into orange, yellow, and red piles, a sight so pretty in Duke Kirkland's gardens that it seemed like a painting.<br>While gardening, Matthew brought tea from the kitchen and we all had an merry picnic on the lawn.

"Like, I hate this Earl Grey stuff. Jasmine is always better." Xiang muttered, wiping his mouth with the embroidered napkin.

"Back home, he always made the best tea. Not like I'd ever tell him, though." Arjun chuckled.

"Who?"  
>"His brother." Kyle answered, before grabbing a crumpet that Mr. Koala almost caught in his grip.<p>

Xiang bent his knee, arm resting on his leg.  
>"Like, he was annoying, being bossy and all. Still, he cooked better." At this, both men laughed.<p>

"Of course! Your country's food is amazing, mate."  
>"I hear that's where he's going again. The master, I mean." Arjun sprinkled curry on the crumpet.<p>

Folding my hands on top of my lap, I looked at the sky.

"Is Duke Kirkland a nice man? I haven't been able to see him very much, and I understand that he's very busy, but-" Kyle smirked playfully.

"You've taken a liking to him, Miss?"  
>"No! I-"<br>"Wow, like, you're one of a kind, then." Even Xiang looked very surprised, glaring at me shockingly. Arjun laughed, shaking his head.

"Now, Kyle, no need to mess with her head."

"Well, mate, this isn't the first time this happened. Plenty of 'em pretty ladies bicker over who wants to get married to who, and not one of them didn't fall short in their speech after seeing a picture of Arthur. Come on, they were pretty! And he's never-"  
>"Like, he's just not interested. No offense, Sara, but back home there was a cute girl, but I never fell for her because-"<br>"Because you were scared that she would turn you down?" Arjun raised his eyebrows playfully, sipping his tea. Xiang made the most emotion I ever saw in his face, standing and turning as red as the roses that dotted the garden.

"Like, NO!" Even I couldn't help but giggle. It was so obvious, the way he was turning red and stuttering excuses.

"Come on, mate! I bet she's in love with you too. Opposites attract, right?" Kyle winked. The boy was speechless, eyes darting left, right, up, down. A leaf floated above his head, eventually landing on it. Xiang didn't seem to notice it.

Before we knew it, Kyle and Xiang were throwing leaves at each other. Although Kyle seemed to be having the time of his life, Xiang was fully concentrated like an assassin finding ways to murder his target. The difference in their personalities was an interesting sight.

* * *

><p>After we cleaned up all the leaves, Matthew and I were going into the library. In my right hand was a feather duster, and in my other was a bucket of water, swishing gently as we walked.<p>

"Matthew. There's something I need to speak with you about." I gasped. Duke Kirkland stood at the end of the hall, a copy of _Alice in Wonderland _in hand. Even with the grave expression in his face, he was still handsome.

Oh, no. No. I couldn't let what Kyle said earlier distract me.

"Please go on ahead, there's something I need to take care of." Matthew nodded, sending me a quick smile across his shoulder as he disappeared behind the corner.

Duke Kirkland cleared his throat, straightening the sleeves of his dark brown frock coat until meeting my gaze.  
>"Her majesty, Queen Victoria, requests my attendance for the garden party coming in three days. And, I know that you've hardly ever crossed paths with me directly, but this is an urgent matter, and I don't want anything happening within the social circle that concerns any of the new debutantes,-" Stopping, he closed his eyes, and inhaled. Opening them again, he held out his hand, a faint hue of red appearing on his cheeks.<p>

"Would you do me the honor of being my partner?"  
>...<p>

...

Ah, I don't know what happened during that moment, except for my head-no, my whole body becoming blistering hot and the hand holding the bucket of water feeling numb. My lips moved, mouth opening in quick, uneasy movements and my eyes desperately searching for something else to look at. The wall, the ceiling, the vase of roses on the mahogany stand, whatever.

But they were locked onto those eyes of his.

"Miss Lindinshire, are you feeling unwell?" Agh. Even the sound of his voice-

"No, Sir, I am fine." He frowned.  
>"Don't be silly. You're shaking like a madwoman." Frowning, he took my hand.<p>

"Please, Sir, I-"  
>"Nonsense. What man would I be to leave you alone here?" He led me down the hall, where we met Arjun, who had a parcel in his hands.<p>

"Ah, Arthur-oh, what happened?" He looked over me with concern.  
>"Arjun, take care of her if you will. The party is in three days, and we can't have her falling ill." Sighing, he turned his heel without saying a word.<p>

I exhaled loudly once Arthur was out of sight.

"I'm sorry, Arjun. That sort of thing won't happen again. Honestly, I don't know what came over me-" He shook his head.

"Please, it's nothing at all. If anything, I am at fault for letting you outside this afternoon. Today was quite gusty, anyway-"

"Oh, no, I'm not sick or anything. It happened when I was speaking to Arthur-" Suddenly, the earlier concern that appeared on his face left, his lips curling into a bright smile.

"Kyle was correct."  
>"Wha-?" Before I could speak, Arjun was already down the hall.<p>

There was one thing I was stressed about. Not having to do with what happened, of course. Such little clothes I had! And on a visit to her majesty's party-it wouldn't work out.

So on my spare time, I knelt on the soft grass, watching Bali prance around like a queen in her castle. The dress I wore was white, with spring green lines that ran down from the middle to the bottom of my skirt. It was a present from Matthew, who urged me to wear it as often as possible.  
>Wearing it made me feel like a noble once more.<br>My chocolate, wavy hair was let loose and curled at my shoulders. The wind was blowing softly today, and once in a while a strand would fly away and whip me in my face. Even Bali would look at me, and I frowned. For some reason, I felt as if she was mocking me. Then again, with those lovely feathers, she had a reason to.  
>"Sara!" Matthew called from the doorstep. Kumajiro sat like a stuffed doll, staring at Bali, who stared at him back. I really wonder what those two speak about all day. The way they stare at each other makes it look like they do. And I'm certain Mr. Koala does the same.<p>

"It's the Master. He wants you to join him for tea." Tea? With the Duke...Oh, no. We can't have that happening again.

I followed Matthew down the pavement, to where the small gazebo stood. The round table set with a pair of plates, cups, utensils, and napkins was empty.  
>"He'll be arriving shortly." I took my seat as Matthew darted away.<br>A few moments later he arrived with Arthur at his side, dressed in a formal outfit with medals. Despite his appearance, his face was grim.  
>"Good day, Master Arthur." I curtsied. Sighing, he took his seat and gave me a forced smile.<p>

"I'm sorry for the slovenly appearance. I ran into...something unfortunate during the party this morning." His mouth creased at the words 'something unfortunate'.

Seeing him dressed in all his regalia, I felt so ordinary. My title of nobility had been stripped away, and now I was a girl without a future but to serve. I know he didn't mean to look condescending, but-

"You look lovely. Matthew always had a stronger taste in flashy attire." He said this without even glancing at me, as he seemed to be studying the tea in the intricate cup.

My face flushed as I swallowed the piece of crumpet.

"Thank you, Master Arthur. You are very kind."  
>"You are welcome. Anyway, you <em>do <em>know how to dance, correct?" I swallowed a lump in my throat. Shoot. Had it really been that long since I attended fancy parties and stepped gracefully across the floors of a noble's home?  
>"Yes..." At that moment, his eyes darted to meet mine. Setting down his teacup, he cleared his throat.<p>

"I see. It must have been a while since you practiced."  
>"I'm sorry. I'll ask anyone if they can help-"<br>"It's perfectly fine. Actually, I haven't had a good dance in a while."  
>Then he decided that tonight, we would rehearse, right in the ballroom of the Kirkland Mansion.<p>

"Your right foot should step more to an angle." The clock chimed at half-past seven as the two of us stood in the center of the large room. I had a feeling that we weren't alone, for I saw at a glance Kyle and Xiang's smirking faces at the corner of the door.  
>For some reason, my dancing had become a bit off. I wasn't a terrible dancer back then, but today my feet were in all awkward positions and stepping on all the wrong places. It was only luck that I didn't step on his foot.<br>Yet he never lost his patience, and encouraged me warmly by guiding my hand without fail.  
>"Miss Lindenshire, is there something the matter?" I jolted from my thoughts. His green eyes were once again boring into mine.<br>"It's nothing."  
>"You shouldn't lie. There's always been something troubling you, hasn't there?" I bit my lip, lowering my head shamefully.<p>

"How?"  
>"Pardon?"<br>"A girl like me, and a man of such high stature like you, walking hand by hand in the gardens of her majesty's palace...it's not right! You deserve someone-"  
>"Of higher rank? I might as well dance with Arjun's bird." He snorted. I felt terrible, with him frowning at me. As he raised my arm, I twirled, my dress spinning an inch above the floor.<p>

"Listen, regardless of what stature you are, it's too late to turn back. I'll introduce you as Sara Lindenshire, daughter of the deceased Count Ethan Lindenshire. I know you want it. The life you once had. It's never too late to return to that, I can say. And when they hear it, you'll be acknowledged once more as a Countess, not some poor girl wandering around the streets of London, looking for work in a tattered dress." I was struck speechless at his words. He turned to the left, my feet nearly tripping on each other as I comprehended his words.  
>He wanted to do something. For me.<p>

I didn't care if it was simply out of pity or not. I didn't care if the others thought of him as some grouch lord or anything, either.

All I cared was that he was Arthur, the man I had fallen for without knowing, and that my face crossed his mind.

But I knew even if I returned to my nobility, all the glory wouldn't make me as happy as I was before.

I forced my gloved hand away from his, stopping the waltz.

"I apologize for my sudden behavior. And I thank you, Master Arthur. But there's no need to return me to what I was before, for I already have everything here." It was his turn to look surprised, jaw dropped, eyebrows narrowed, eyes searching mine in confusion.

"But...that's what you've always wanted." I shook my head, smiling.

"No, it isn't. What I've always wanted...I've found, in a rather strange way. It's almost complete, Master Arthur, almost. Everything I've always wanted-has been returned in a great measure." I curtsied more gracefully than ever.

"Good night, Master Arthur."  
>And I fled from the room, a heavy weight lifted from my heart.<p>

* * *

><p>Arthur brought me a present the next morning: a sky blue dress to wear for the party.<p>

"You look very pretty." Kumajiro said. He was so cute I couldn't help but raise him from the ground and kiss him on his little head.

"Thank you."  
>"No problem." A tint of pink appeared on his cheeks, and he leaped from my arms and dashed down the hall.<p>

Arthur was already at the door, dressed in a similar suit with medals attached as the one he wore yesterday.

"Good morning, Master Arthur." He gave me a brief smile and nodded, but he said nothing.

On the carriage ride there, I urged a conversation several times, but they only lasted quickly. What was wrong with him?

He acted more pleasantly at the party-to everyone else, that is. My cheeks felt warm again as I forced myself to place my hand on his arm. To my luck, he didn't seem to care in the least, or maybe he was too engrossed in the conversations to even notice.

"What a lovely flower of a partner Duke Kirkland brought along with him!"  
>"Should I cut in during the dance?"<br>"Don't be ridiculous-a man as high-ranking as him...surely that would tarnish your title, Baron Dedner!" The merry voices of two men and a woman nearly stopped me in my tracks. Not because of the compliment.

That's right. Arthur was still a duke, and I his servant.

That's how it will always be, no matter what it all seems to the others here.

* * *

><p>When we arrived home again, he commended me on my behavior briefly before bidding me good night. Then it struck me-he had been thinking about the night before. About what I said, about what had happened.<p>

I decided to go and ask him.

It was late at night, and I made sure to wait a few hours after Matthew and the others had gone to bed. My feet padded lightly atop the wooden floors as I made my way down the halls, seemingly endless until I came upon the mahogany double doors of his bedroom.

The door to the left was ajar a mere two inches when I saw him.

Arthur wore normal brown trousers and a white cotton shirt, buttoned halfway up, holding a small frame. His thick eyebrows were creased, a tint of sadness in his eyes.

I shrunk against the door, slowly my breath. He closed his eyes shut, as if praying in his heart, opened them and placed the frame back on the table next to the large canopied bed. Back turned and facing the window, it was all silent , save for the gentle tapping of rain.

As I looked away, my instinct warned me to go back.  
>Following it took a turn for the worse.<p>

"Miss Lindinshire, please come in." My breath was caught in my throat at the calmness of his voice.

He offered me a seat on the loveseat in front of the blazing fireplace. The rain outside had become harder, now pelting rapidly on the window.

"I'm very sorry, Master Arthur. I knew that I shouldn't have done it; it was so disrespectful of me." My voice was so quiet that it reminded me of Matthew's.

"There's a good reason why you came here, isn't there? I guessed enough that you thought I've been thinking about what you said before." Arthur still wasn't facing me, as he seemed to find the rain interesting.

"Yes..."  
>"You are partly correct. The other part was something that Matthew said, about something you pointed out on your first day here." My first day? It seemed like years had gone by...<p>

"The portrait of myself and two young boys."  
>"Yes! I was saying how that portrait was my favorite..." It sounded childish, I knew. But I wanted to be honest with him. Then, I exhaled.<p>

"I'm sorry again. What I said drove Matthew to tell me about how you had two sons, and about how the other left-" I paused. Arthur's forehead was pressed against the window, his hand clenched into a fist.

"Master Arthur..." Why couldn't I do anything right? Clearly he was upset, or sad about something.

"Forgive me, Sara...but tell me one thing."

"Yes?"  
>"You are one for secrets, I hope?"<br>Then he sat down with me, while watching the flames of the fireplace, and told me everything.

* * *

><p>When he was done, my eyes were surprisingly wide open, despite the grandfather clock chiming three o'clock.<p>

Or perhaps it wasn't so much of a surprise at all.

Because it wasn't every day that someone told you that they were an immortal embodiment of a nation.

Yes, you heard me right.

Arthur is a nation.

His whole story made sense. Matthew was Canada, the other little boy whom he 'adopted' (he explained to me that they were found in the wild) and the child who left was the United States of America.

Arjun, Arthur went on to say, had been living with him for quite a while and represented India. Kyle was the animal-hazardous nation of Australia. Xiang was the small but upbeat island colony of Hong Kong, and that he was homesick.

They were all homesick, I tried to explain, but Arthur already knew and assured me that there really wasn't a choice.  
>"I can see why you asked if I could keep secrets," I breathed, hand on my chest. He chuckled.<p>

"It's an awful one to keep, but I knew I could trust you either way." The hand on my chest curled into a fist. The candle was already dimming.

"Then, may I ask you, Master Arthur, if _you _are good at keeping secrets." He smiled, running a hand through his hair.

"I consider myself good enough." My mouth felt dry. Oh, why at all times?  
>"Master Arthur, I know there's nothing left to repay you for all that you've done, and I know that there's a strong chance that...oh, please, just-"<br>"Sara, is something wrong?" In the growing darkness I could still see his beautiful eyes, filled with concern.

"I love you, Arthur." The rain had become a thunderstorm, a bolt of lightning and a roar of thunder coming at me by surprise, as I shrieked and tackled the country to the floor.

His bangs covered his eyes, his mouth silent and closed.

For a while, we stayed in that awkward position on the floor.  
>Before I could push myself up, he came forward and stopped a centimeter away from my open mouth, his breath warm and sweet against mine.<p>

A few seconds of hesitation passed.

Then he took my lips in his, locking us together in a careful kiss.

"And I love you, Miss Lindinshire." My eyes closed, and I fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

><p>Arthur and I were married, secretly, because he told me about certain 'complications' that happened in his 'world'.<br>I acted like a housewife, although I was married to a duke. This became a common joke that spread throughout the household, and to Arthur's new colonies.

I even met Alfred one day. A nice boy, far more energetic than Arthur or Matthew. But there was a sense of good in him that I couldn't help but like.

Even though I couldn't have a child, I knew what story I would tell it if I actually did.

* * *

><p><em>2012<em>

Heaving another chest open, England cleared the dust from the canvas blanket and pushed it to the side.  
>"Are you looking for something?" The Canadian held a small wooden box as he leaned over his former charge's shoulder.<p>

"Nothing, this place is just filthy." Swiftly he moved away from the opened chest, which only held another cluster of blankets and fabrics from the fourteenth century.

"W-well, I think I found something interesting, eh?" Canada caught up with the Brit's fast pace to the doorway.

England quirked an eyebrow as his former colony opened the box.

Oh.

The emerald ring, dating back from the late nineteenth century, the one with diamonds bordering the square jewel-

The one he had given her when she accepted his clumsy proposal.

"A-are you sure you want to keep in here?" Canada had been equally saddened at her death, although everyone knew it was going to happen anyway.

The former empire sighed, taking the ring into his shirt pocket.

"I'll clean it later, the jewel looks a tad dirty."  
>"Ok, then."<p>

Canada smiled as he watched him leave the room.

Even though he denied it, England wouldn't just clean it. Canada guessed that he would take it wherever he went with him, and that he wouldn't want to let it go, ever again.

It was a sad truth, but Sara died happy, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

><p>Arthur remembered the time when she complimented his eye color.<p>

Like emeralds, she said. Emeralds that were sparkling in the light of the sun.

What a poetic young woman she had been, that Sara. A clash of thunder startled him from his thoughts, but at the same time drew himself back to them.

His hand closed around the small ring.

In his basement, he was fully aware of the abundance of jewels he had earned in the past. More colorful, more expensive.

But this one would forever be his favorite.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading! Please review!<strong>


End file.
